COTCOD VOL 26 - ANGELS OF FAITH
by saruviel
Summary: Chronicles of the Children of Destiny Volume Twenty-Six - Angels of Faith. Updates.


Angels of Faith

By

Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

.com

Copyright Daniel Daly & Noahide Books

Dedication: Angels of Faith Series Dedicated to Victoria Beckham

STORIES

1. 'Angels of Faith Books 1 to 7'

2. 'Sitting at the River' (Short Story)

3. 'Victoria and the Four Elemental Precepts of Existence' (Short Story)

4. 'David's Dilemma' (Short Story)

5. Hannibal Lecter - Monster (Novella)

6. 'Through the Realm of Splendour to the Heart of Hope' (Short Story)

7. 'The Sixth Primal Element' (Short Story)

8. 'Victoria' (Short Story)

9. 'Foundation's Beginning' (Short Story)

10. 'Victoria and Foundation' (Short Story)

11. 'Uriel and the Dragon' (Short Novella)

12. 'All Good Things Must Come to an End' (Short Story)

Angels of Faith

by Daniel Daly

Copyright 6176 SC

Book 1

Victorius

'Saruviel Savereign,' said the Dark Lord. 'An angel of incredible wit. Tolerable, to us, in some ways. But a nemesis. For he serveth goodness, and not the ideals of our community. Of our fellowship of evil. He 'Keeps the faith', and this is not in our best interests. For the Divine one upon high can go to hell in his stewardship of our souls, as that cretin Uriel maintains. And his appointment of Saruviel Savereign as his 'Arch-Regent' of Glory in the Realm of Splendour is a pathetic joke, to us, the Dominion of the Dark Ones. I, Lucifer Malfoy, speak to you, angels of death. In my human glories, I summon you to our agenda. Rid the heavenlies of these fowl followers of the faith, who corrupt our Splendid Freedom's we know we utterly deserve, and destroy the power of Saruviel Savereign, and his Victorious counterpart, fair Maiden Victoria, for we shall rule in heaven eternal, and Foundation shall crumble under our power, wrath and might. Spread evil, spread sickness, run amok, do as you will, for I have gained the heavenlies through the weak mercies of Uriel's naive stupidity, and we shall challenge his foolishness, gain control of the Realm, and rule it for all time to be and come, in the name of Evil. For the Dominion of the Dark Ones are the true faith of life itself, and death itself, and all that is, and all that is not, for Satan our Saruvim leader, head of the 666 Saruvim Angels of Death, is glorified by our works of darkness, and in the eternal truths we all know so well, the power of the beast shall rise up, defeat Saruviel Savereign, slay that damned Uriel, and combat the man from Nazareth, and his supposedly Kosher Church of his own Beautiful glory, which runs full steam ahead in its conversion of the everyday man, away from the truth and power of his own will, to the servitude of Yeshua, the Man of Gospel, and the Holy One Upon High whom he vainly serves.'

The demon's growled around the man in the cave, down in the dark reaches of the Abyss of Mt Grazlag, and up above, in the region of Gosheria, in the Realm of Splendour, dark dreams and nightmares filled the minds of the innocent of heaven, as the fowl spirits rose, took to their purpose, and began the war of the heavenlies, the wars of the Realm of Splendour, the war of Faith, with Foundation, Saruviel Savereign and his consort Victoria the Splendid One, Uriel the Archangel upon High, and the supposed saviour of all, the humbled yet glorified Jesus of Nazareth.

'Victorius, we shall be,' growled Lucifer, as he watched the dark spirits ascend.

The End

Book 2

Uriel and the Wrath of Lucifer Malfoy's Jogging Shoes

'They smell,' said Victoria.

'Pooey,' said Uriel. 'Lucifer!' he yelled. 'Could you please clean the putrid items.'

'Fuck,' said Lucifer. 'You know, Uriel, summoning hell to invade heaven is very messy business. Forgive me brother.'

Lucifer took them out to the backyard were Lucy was washing the dog. 'Hey babe,' said Lucifer.

'Chauvanist!' yelled Lucy

'Sorry babe,' said Lucifer softly. 'You know I love you hon.'

'Go inside and wash the dishes. NOW!' she demanded.

Lucifer grumbled and obediently went inside, looked at the dishes, and went off to play on his X-Box.

The following morning seven of the dark spirits hovered around the Lord Lucifer. 'They are too tough,' they said. 'They rebuke us incessantly.'

'I know,' said Lucifer. 'I feel the same way too.'

The End

Book 3

Victoria and Lucy Potter's Bad Day

Victoria was in the main room, waiting on Lucy to get home. Lucifer was up in the back room of the cottage, taking care of some last details for the nights activities, the cottage being were he was currently living with his squeeze, Lucy Potter, a deep crush on the girl, something in his heart, so he claimed. For heaven's sake, Victoria often thought to herself. Not the Devil himself. Not in love with the Devil himself. But Lucy Potter was dismissive of the obvious truths about Lucifer's bad reputation, and when the devil finally repented a while back in the Realm of Splendour, he hooked up with Miss Potter, chatted on about getting a place up north near the Heart of America in the Realm of Splendour, and they decided not even on Canada in the end anyway, but just over the border in Maine, for Lucy was also a citizen of Canada, and not America, but Lucifer had rights and could give them to an officially formal girlfriend / de facto, under current legal regulations.

So they moved up, Victoria herself, a long term friend and acquaintaince of the famous witch of destiny,agreeing to move in with them in the main house with Uriel, her current lover, and they were a group of 4 happy souls, living out life, having faith that everything would work out perfectly in this funny and ironic arrangement of life they had found themselves in.

And then Lucy Potter walked into the main room, looking like she had had a bad day, and when she sat down, put on the TV using the remote, and said 'Fuck Everything,' Victoria suspected something was up.

'What's the problem,'sweetie?' asked Victoria, reading her issue of Vogue.

'A shit day,' said Lucy, gawking at the Wolverine carftoon on TV, her current fave, and looking still pissed off.

'Why is that sweetie?' asked Victoria.

Lucy turned to her. 'Don't ask.'

'It can't be that bad,' said Victoria.

'Ok. You asked. Well, I get to work this morning, and I find I left my purse in my bedroom, so I can't get any coffee for my pickmeup. Sure, I can live with that. Then, come lunch time, I go to the cafeteria, and not one bloody soul will lend me a cent, and the boss said 'There is always water, Loose,' and i said to the bastard, 'Geeze, your great friends. And you know what, they all had these evil bloody grins on their face. As if I was the butt of some cosmic joke.'

'Oooh,' said Victoria. 'That could be a downer.'

'But worst of all, 'said Lucy, 'The car got a flat down the road a mile, and I have no money, and the spare is also flat, and I had to walk home in this damn heat, and life just sucks, ok. Life just sucks.'

'Sweetie. You just need a little faith. Now come outside.'

Reluctantly, Lucy got to her feet, and coming out the back she was greeted with a sudden cheer and 'Happy Birthday Lucy', being confronted with all her work colleagues and a beaming Lucifer.

'I hid your purse,' he said to her. 'And I asked them to not give you any money today. Because today we treat you, Lucy Potter.'

And the party got under way.

Later on, as the night wore on, the music had gotten softer, and most of the revellers had gone home, Lucy was sitting next to Victoria.

'I had completely forgotten it was my birthday,' said Lucy.

'I know,' said Victoria. 'I prayed you would.'

Lucy turned to her, surprised. 'But how did you know your prayer would work?'

Victoria sipped on her grog, and smiled. 'Really, fabulous Miss Lucy Potter. In this topsy turvy world of the Realm of Splendour, if there is one thing I have learned, it is just to keep the faith.'

'Oh,' said Lucy, somewhat satisfied with that.

'And let love lead the way,' said Victoria, as a somewhat drunk Lucifer came up to Lucy Potter and managed to get her to dance with him to the slow music.

And the night passed on, and another day in the Realm of Splendour came and went, and the angels sang, and, again, all was well. All was well.

The End

Book 4

Uriel's Chinese Wit

'What do you call a lady with one leg shorter than the other?'

'What Uriel?' asked an indifferent Victoria, sitting on the couch, in the front room, the curtains drawn, the heat of the day kept out, for it was quite hot, and the cooler running through the house.

'Ilene,' he said.

She looked at him, and smiled. 'Very funy, Archangel.'

She returned to her issue of Vogue magazine, and then put it down, picked up her ice tea and sipped on it. It had been a long week, but she had been feeling good. It was Saturday - the Sabbath - the week's end - and David was away, on a soccer camp, plying his trade. He visited her occasionally at the moment, and had rented a hotel room downtown somewhat. They were not officially together, at the moment. Not officially. But Mr Beckham was never far from her heart. They had shared so much history together. So much love together.

'What do you call a Chinese lady with one leg shorter than the other?'

'What Uriel?' asked Victoria, sipping on her ice tea, lost in through about her ex.

'Irene,' he said.

She looked at him, smiled, and then started giggling. It was an old joke of Uriel's, but it always brought her a laugh.

Philosophically Victoria had reached a point in life in which she was starting to understand how to enjoy life properly, and how to have the right attitudes towards all and sundry - the right type of faith, as it were. The right faith - the right beliefs - aligned the thoughts of the heart to a better way of life, which the mind worked best on. It was the maximum state of true happiness which she had been pursuing, but that was not that easy to obtain, so her gurus had always reminded her. Everything needed to be working out for good, in the end, for true eternal happiness to be achieved. And, no matter how hard you strove for the perfect life and happiness - the perfect faith in everything - there were always life circumstances which intervened and reminded you the divine project, whatever that was, was not quite finished yet.

'If the ruler of an Empire is an Emporer and the ruler of a Kingdom is a King, what is the ruler of a Country?'

Victoria turned to look at Uriel. 'That is a most interesting question? A Prime Minister, I suppose,' she said, with the faintest smile on her face.

t

'Indeed,' said Uriel.

She returned to her issue of Vogue, and read for a while, a state of quiet happiness upon her, and the day passed. Uriel passed more of his old jokes, traditional ones he had used time and time again, and another day of happiness passed in the Realm of Splendour.

The End

Book 5

Lucifer's Bad Luck

'Lord's of Misrule. Answer me. Uriel's is weak, and we shall conquer heaven's might. For the time is nigh. Unleash your wrath, and conquer the vanities of splendour forever.'

A demon finally crawled up from the underworld, animatedly appeared and glared at Lucifer. 'You have to be bloody kidding, right? Not only did we get our butt wipped last time, but formerly timid little gentle ones mocked us, bound us up through extremely faith inspired prayers, and kicked us back to hell in knots which some of us are still trying to get out of. And before you even suggest us taking on Uriel, that Lucy Potter girl is hell itself. One bloody wrong look at her, and you'll have gutache and footrot for months. She is a furious old bloody witch.'

'For fuck's sake,' said Lucifer. 'The passion of hell.'

'What do you care, anyway? Life is good for you. You even, apparently, love the Potter girl. Or so Satan is heard as saying of late.'

'Shaddup. My love for Miss Potter is not the concern of yours. Anyway, you have refused. Tell Satan our contract is fulfilled for this millennium. The summonings have been of sufficient wrath and indignation against the glories of heaven, and if you guy's can't handle the heat, then it is not my fault.'

'Fine, fine,' said the demon. 'Hope to see you in hell one day,' and it slithered down, back into the ground, back down to the netherworld.

Lucifer, of course, was an ancient Saruvim, of the 666 Saruvim Angels, long in allegiance with Satan, who headed the host. But he had long ago gotten over most of his problems, simply out of sheer devotion to and admiration for the Lucy Potter girl, a sweetheart he couldn't get out of his system. So he went through his contractual obligations with the Saruvim and Hell and summoned them from his luxurious heavenly position, but laughed each time, as of recent millennium, as hell got its butt kicked time and time again.

For the Angels of Faith had finally found their faith.

And Hell no longer prospered because of it.

As he trudged upwards, holding his flashlight, he thought on his woman, Lucy, and realized tonight was pork chops night. Oh, good. He loved those pork chops. And, if he was lucky, she would even have bought some ice cream home after work.

He was unlucky.

It was sticky date pudding.

He slept well, anyway.

The End

Book 6

The Struggle for Faith

'Lucifer. Just bloody pray about it.'

Lucifer still hacked away at his ingrown toenail, and looked at Lucy. 'Pray? Me? To God? For heaven's sake, you are kidding, aren't you. That is like, hell. Like a sin for me.'

'Very funny,' she said. 'Then I will.' She sat down, put her hands on his toe, and looked upwards. 'God. Please give this bloody devil a break and heal his toe. Even though you know so well exactly who he is.'

'He'll never answer the prayer,' said Lucifer that night, eating his spaghetti. 'He hates me.'

'He doesn't hate you,' said Lucy, sipping on her wine.

'He never gave a damn before, you know. When we were growing up. Us Saruvim. We suffered a lot because we never got along well with the community. And then we fell and the 777 Seraphim opposed us bitterly. And when the 555 Cherubim turned upon us, well, that was about the end of it. No friends, caught between a rock and a hard place, and God could go to hell. So we have never even considered prayer since then.'

'Prayer works. Have some faith.'

'There is always a catch,' he said. 'Plenty of them that I am aware of.'

'Well. Have you ever thought of doing something about those catches?'

'Like what?' he asked her, looking at her.

'Like repenting,' she said, straight facedly.

'Repenting? Me? You are fucking joking right? Devil's don't repent.'

'Try it,' she responded.

'Yeh right,' said Lucifer.

'Trust me,' she finished. He just looked at her for ages, then, finally, returned to his spaghetti, shaking his head.

But

Even Miracles for Lucifer, in the fulness of time, at the end of the final days of atonement through a reformed lifestyle, can, in fact, happen.

And that night, getting up around 3 O'clock, not finding it easy to sleep, he went downstairs, fished around for some of the spaghetti, and sat in Lucy's den, eating it, playing her PC games. And then, sitting back, he turned to look at the bookcase, and noticed the Bible. And then, not even knowing why, he fished it out, opened it up, and started reading.

And he didn't finish reading it until the morning.

The End

Book 7

Faith Completed

The Rabbi handed his student his diploma in Theology. The student turned to the crowd, raised it up, and the cheer was excellent. He left the stand, returned to his seat, and watched as the rest of the ceremony unfolded. He turned to his wife, Lucy. 'Well. I did it.'

'How are your toes, Lucifer?'

'Excellent,' he said. 'And I am in better health then I have ever been.'

'And how is your heart?'

'Oh. God. I feel, very weird. Like there is actual respect for people, simply because I admire them for their general worth and the goodness within them. They do kind things for you, sometimes even when you don't deserve it. I always resented it once, acts of kindness, but now I appreciate them. They feel good to receive.'

And, in the completion of faith, Lucy Potter asked one of the oldest Devil's the most crucial questions of all.

'And God?'

'Oh, Lucy,' said Lucifer, gave her a hug, and that night, after a quiet prayer to his heavenly father, Lucifer pulled out an ancient parchment, which had been a gift to his from God near his 17th birthday, which had a lesson on it.

'In the end, child of mine, keep the faith. And I will love you forever. And write your name down on this sheet if you ever, truly, assent.'

And, taking his pen, he wrote down 'Lucifer' on the parchment, looked at it, smiled, and put it away.

And faith was complete. And faith was perfect.'

The End

Angels of Faith

"Sitting at the River"

(This story has been written for Victoria Adams, who is the Spice Girl known as Posh Spice)

I walked down to the river. It was Monday morning, early in the day. I didn't really have anything better to do and was a bit bored. It was a long walk and I was tired when I finally arrived. I sat at the edge of the river, on the sand, and looked at the water. I looked downstream and looked up at the pine trees. I really liked looking at the pine trees. I think I have often noticed what I would call the spirit of Pine Island. I have had a number of schizophrenic episodes, and often ventured out to pine island. There was one time when I was still at Potters House Christian Church and had left the group house because I was suffering an attack of paranoia. I was walking around the countryside on the western side of the river at Pine Island. I walked a long time and it was a very intense experience. I remember, during the night, being alone on the western side of pine island, with nobody around, on the other side of the river. It was a very intense experience. I remember having some hallucinations thinking on aeroplanes which would drop atomic bombs. I actually closed my eyes and opened them a number of times and saw the planes way up in the sky. But when I looked again the planes were gone. Later in the morning I was on the opposite western side of the river and had hallucinations of cars driving along pine island all the time, from the entrance to the southern car park. I was scared a bit.

Sitting at the river is ok. I don't really get lonely much because I don't really relate to too many people. Paul Saberton was alright because he had a good level of biblical theology, but I think he is just stupid clinging to Christian fundamentalist ideas like 'keeping the faith' to the level of ignoring other possibilities. You see, to me, the hype of being very dedicated and having strong convictions is just human pride, trying to pump itself up as something more than it actually is. Humans are meant to resonate with the facts of life. With the truth. They are meant to be themselves and not pretend to be something they aren't. All of that is just a façade and hides the true reality of what people are really like.

I personally think the purpose of the bible, as I saw it then, was to correct the negative impulses in human beings. The impulses towards codes of behaviour which are contrary to a morality, I guess, which is meant to be a type of morality to sustain a person with an eternal existence. To my way of thinking God desires people who are actually committed to eternal life and brought forth the scriptures to educate people on the principles required for existing eternally. People complain about the bible and its rules because they want to do what they want and the pleasures found in freedom, which would probably be called hedonism, are very exciting at first. But, from my observations, sin, which is living a lifestyle contrary to the biblical values, eventually decays away and leaves a person feeling empty and hollow. Devoid of a true sense of peace and feeling good about themselves. The biblical values make sense, and I personally think that at the beginning God had all the death penalties in place to kill of all the people who would, in the end, just end up sinning to much and not committing to eternal life with him. I believe he is a very intelligent being and is capable of making the judgement of those who will simply not commit in the end. And, as far as I am personally concerned, if they are not committed to living eternally then I don't care if God wants to kill them off. I won't be able to have them as an eternal friend so I really don't care.

I think God allowed, or probably arranged the Christian faith, with its softer approach, because the level of holiness in mankind's society had increased to the degree that the strictest standards were no longer required. At that time there were a lot of people who lived by codes of behaviour contrary to the Torah values, but they were also stable enough in their own societal standards and probably interested enough in the concept of eternal life that the older way of doing things was no longer required.

And now, today, in the 21st century, the rules can soften even further. God doesn't have to be as strict anymore, because a huge number of people who like to be homosexual, or fornicate, or commit incest, or paedophilia, or rape or kidnap, or do other things, apart from the minimum standards which the Rainbow Bible promotes, are also interested enough in having eternal life and are willing to commit to the values of the Rainbow Bible, and willing to have an eternal relationship, or at the very least an eternal knowledge of or association with the creator, that he is quite happy to let them live and do what they want to do.

Well, sitting by the River is fun. This could be a fictional story, you know, if you are reading it. Or perhaps the viewpoints from a mind who has contemplated such issues. Whatever it is, this tale is now finished, so good day.

THE END

Angels of Faith

"Victoria and the Four Elemental Precepts of Existence"

'It really is, dear Vicky, a constant matter of debate. Constant debate. Universally, all have now acknowledged the Creator as the central axiom of existence, but it appears, as the theologians have constantly maintained, that coming forth from the Creator, out of his eternal power, exist Four Primary Elemental Precepts of Existence, and the constant debate is this – which is the first and which is the last. It is my personal view that FIRE is the first element of existence. The first and primary element of existence. For example, the creator's very first words were 'Let there be light.' And thus, as fire is the primary source of light, it follows logically that fire is the primary element.'

'Why?'

'The Creator made water first, which is the 'Heaven's' as Genesis 1 teaches. Then he made 'Earth' as Genesis 1 also teaches. But his priority was fire for, as it says in Genesis, God's first words were 'Let there be Light!' and, as such, the Creator set 'Fire' as his primary element, the only one worthy of his first words.'

'What is next?'

'His next words were 'Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters to divide the waters above from the waters below. Therefore 'Water' is the secondary element in God's priority.'

'And next?'

'Well, Air can only be created through plants, thus God must have put in place the Plants which produced the Air. And plants came forth from the Earth. Therefore Earth is the third element and Air is the fourth element.'

'I guess that makes sense.'

'So the Four elements in order are 'FIRE', 'WATER', 'EARTH' and 'AIR'. Now, the four Primary Angels are Uriel, Raphael, Gabriel and Michael. Uriel, of course, means 'Fire of God', so it seems quite obvious that this angel represents the primary element of 'Fire. But the rest of the order of Angelicdom is a matter of dispute. We are yet to reach a firm conclusion.'

'Thank you professor. Good day.' Victoria left the office, returned to her Porsche, and took off into the city lights.

The Flames were burning furiously. As Victoria watched on the 'Phoenix' continued to breathe flames against the 'Dragon' and the buildings were all burning in furious wrath in the movie she had rented, 'War of the Mysticals'. Uriel was on her mind. The Angel of Fire – the Angel who ruled the Realm. This movie', 'War of the Mysticals' had been written, produced and directed by Uriel, one of his many accomplishments. And, unsurprisingly, it was a product of excellence. What did fire represent? What was fire all about? Of course, it provided heat, cooked food, and gave light so that people could see. And, as she had learned in some of her recent science lessons, the matter of heat reverberated at an extremely fast rate. But, of course, it was an element, wasn't it. One of the four elements. Science had taught her the periodic table of elements. Yet these were classified into four basic structures – Liquid, Solid, Gas and Plasma. Water was then obviously the elemental class of all the liquid elements, Earth was obviously the elemental class of all the Solid elements, Air was obviously the elemental class of all the Gas elements and, logically, Fire would be the elemental class of all the 'Plasma' elements. But the knowledge of Plasma elements was difficult to obtain. Was light based on 'Rays'? Was it based on 'Photons'? What the hell was it based on?'

She went to the fridge, grabbed a can of 'Coke' and, drinking it down, thought on the next element. 'Water'. Water, funnily enough, extinguished fire. It had the power of putting out fire. But what would happen if you extinguished the 'Sun'? The earth would die. Without the necessary heat from the sun and the vitamins it provided, earth would did. People couldn't live without the Sun. It was essential for survival. And, thinking about that, water was also essential for a human. It was impossible to live without water. It just couldn't be done. Water was absolutely essential. Absolutely essential. And then, making the leap, she realized that 'Earth' was essential for plant life to eat fruits and vegetables, and for the animals to eat to obtain 'Meat' and 'Fish' and so on. And of course, it was impossible to live without air. It really seemed that the four elements were absolutely essential for life. It was impossible to live without them. Therefore she had reached this conclusion – they were the Four Elemental precepts of existence. Absolutely essential. And life could be maintained and lived permanently upon these four elements. Mmm. Good. Well, then, concentrating on these four elements, she would put the 'Proud' fifth element of 'Love' in its place, and simply live by the Four elements. For a little angel had just whispered to her that, in the end, those who loved, didn't quite make it. As Queen sang 'Too much love will kill you.' Now, the point of disputation this angel had was 'Just as sure as none as all,' which was the continuation of the lyric. But the angel pointed out to her that Freddy was also 'Gay', which meant, quite obviously, he relied on the scriptural passage which said 'Love covers a multitude of sins'. But 'The wages of sin was death'. As simple as that. And as the angel told her, Daniel had judged that that 'Love' guy was messing around with elements not belonging to him and that, the fatal price to pay, was inevitably death. As simple as that.

'But what elements are for us, then dear Angel? Do we have any happiness?'

'Yes. Ask Daniel. Here is the email address.' And that said, the angel gave Victoria Daniel's email address, and she proceeded to email him the question.

'Love is for fool, Vicky. Love is for fools. An emotional animal which dies away. An emotional animal which ends up in hatred and conflict, consumed with its opposites. Don't you know, dear Vicky, opposites attract. It is a neverending emotional conflict of hate and love. Really, it gets quite frustrating in the end. I mean, come on, 'God versus the Devil'. Neverending pain. Of course, I wear the title of the Devil occasionally, for a bit of entertainment and too teach the fools some lessons. But I am not really the Devil.'

'Natural. Not given over to emotional twisting and blackmail. Not give over to the lusts of the heart out of control. Not stupid enough to fall for love which, inevitably, fails. It inevitably fails.'

'There are purer spirits, Vicky. Purer spirits. And while so many of them try to get your attention, off they go to love in the end. Off they go submitting to the God of love. Oh, they feel good, they are awesome, they feel wonderful. But they're not for you.'

Vicky finally responded.

'And what is your element, Mr Daly?'

'A lack thereof.'

'And why is that?'

'Because I wasn't born yesterday, dear Miss Adams. I wasn't born yesterday.'

THE END

"Angels of Faith"

"David's Dilemma"

Football. It really was one of his main preoccupations. Of course, his team hadn't won the world cup yet – only the earlier generation had done that. But David was focused. Very focused. It might not be easy making the team this time. There was strong talent out there, and he was getting a little older. And, as such, he was in a dilemma. Should he just let it go, or was there something in the heart of David Beckham. Was there some spark of fire – some little flame which said, dead in the still of night, don't quit yet. Glory for England had, usually, been a thing of the Victorian era. Usually the Victorian era. But, of course, that still, quiet voice said to him, in the softest of sarcastic ways, 'Well who the hell did you marry anyway?'

Thinking it over, and thinking it was time to 'Get Hard' and really show some English Guts, DB put on his running shoes, left the house, and went off for a 30 mile walk. It would be a long walk, but this time he would not quit on it. He was going to have to be even fitter than before, even fitter. And, in the months just before the start of the tournament, a big 300 mile walk over several days was on the agenda. That would 'Toughen' him up and give him the attitude necessary to lead the team to glory. It was hard, out there in that summer heat, walking all day long. But champions never had it easy, in the end. They never had it easy.

Having grabbed his MP3 player just before he left, he set it too Vicky's albums on non-stop repeat. His inspiration would guide him through and home. And Glory for England and the Kingdom was his certain reward.

It was late that evening. He had left at about 11 in the morning and it was now almost 12 Midnight. It had been gruelling near the end, but as he climbed the steps up to his home, Victoria opened the door, smiled at him, kissed him and said 'Come on. I will put the bath on and give you a good meal. And then some special desert.'

'What is special desert?'

'Why strawberries and cream of course.'

'Just like the old days.'

Day 21 and he was nearly home. And on schedule. The pace had been demanding, and while his body ached, it had toughened up as well. He was hard now. Hard, and focused. Ready for the challenge. He was not really certain what the other teams were focusing on or how they were preparing, but it didn't matter. England would be strong. They would be competitive. They would likely have the cutting edge in power. This time, it seemed, victory would be there's. He prayed a silent prayer to God to give him strength, and powered on home. And now, destiny awaited. Destiny, and the glory of a nation. All on the shoulders of David Beckham.

THE END

Hannibal Lecter – Monster

Chapter One

'Tell me,' began Jack Crawford. 'Living in this cell. Does it feel like home?'

'Your curious wit,' began Hannibal Lecter, 'Is beneath you, Jack. Still, the intellectual capacities ingrained into you by the dimwits above you shouldn't really surprise me. You're a cop, after all. Aren't you Jack?'

'A servant,' commented Jack Crawford, from the other side of the glass, glaring at Hannibal. It was not a glare of respect. It could never be that.

'One questions just who you serve.'

'The people,' responded Jack Crawford, the bible held steadily in his right hand on his lap, staring down this devil.

'The people,' mocked Hannibal, smiling dementedly. 'All for the love of the people. $450 a week, after taxes, a modest home, forgive me. Unit. A wife who won't give you head like she used to. A cocaine addicted son, and a prostitute for a daughter who tells you to go fuck yourself and your damned Christian church. I mean, you have found faith? Haven't you, Jack?'

'I'm not married,' commented Jack Crawford.

'No. I didn't think so,' said Hannibal, staring at him from his dark solitude. Staring at his adversary.

Jack held the remote control upwards, and pointed it at the box in the cell. The volume came up a little. Benny Hinn, today.

'Pentecostalism,' commented Hannibal cynically. 'The heart of your evangelical world.'

'Jesus forgives,' said Jack Crawford, born again member of the Elect Church of the Living God.

'Jesus,' said Hannibal. 'When I was a lad, I came to terms with him. I liked him,' he said, with the slightest tone of crudity on the word liked.

'Jesus loves you,' said Jack.

'I never met him,' said Hannibal coldly.

'Jesus knows everyone,' said Jack Crawford.

'The power of the divine. If it really exists,' the same crudity on the word really.

'You welcome hell?' queried Jack.

Hannibal stared at him. He was a psychologist. Cold, hard, clinical. Atheistic. Hell, now. That was a fantasy for grown ups, wasn't it.

'Tell me, Jack. In all your Christian virtue, do you still get a hard on?'

Jack remained silent, not commenting.

'Does Miss Starling come to you? In your dreams, Jack? Does she touch you, there? Were you want her too? Does she, Jack?'

'I don't see a need to talk about Clarice.'

'Clarice, is it, Jack. Now why doesn't that surprise me.'

Silence came over the cell. There seemed, at that point, an emptiness in the conversation, which seemed wanting to cascade into a fierce heated debate on the person of Clarice Starling. A person held very, very , dear. To not just one of those present.

'Clarice is a fine agent. The FBI are proud of her.'

'Proud enough to touch her, Jack. To touch her, there. Against protocol. Against policy. Or does your 'Jesus' virtue deny your dick, Jack? Does it?'

Jack said nothing, clutching at the King James Bible.

'Clarice is a good woman,' said jack.

'With a vagina,' responded Hannibal instantly.

Hannibal looked at his opponent. 'Do you dream about that? Do you Jack? Miss Starlings Vagina?'

'I knew you were a serial killer. I didn't know you were also a leech.'

'Forgive me, Jack,' said Hannibal, somewhat apologetically. 'But you are only human, aren't you Jack. Only flesh,' he paused, looking upwards, before returning a dreadful lustful gaze, saying, 'and blood.'

Jack Crawford stared at the face of evil, pointed the remote, turned the volume up to maximum, and left the cell of Hannibal Lecter, the demented face of evil looking dispassionately at Benny Hinn on his Indian crusade, before looking away.

'Maybe he's right, Jack.'

Jack clutched at the bible. 'It's not a crutch.'

'Religion. It's hardly our profession. We're serious men. University men. We know better.'

'The higher power. It….' He left off. ' It did something in my life. At that altar.'

'Or you wanted it to. To justify yourself. To tell yourself, your Jack. You're the good guy. Hannibal is the evil one. You're a saint, he's a sinner.'

'Moral relativity?' queried Jack.

'Scruples are not good for our profession,' Jack, continued his therapist. 'A higher power? I mean, is that really relevant? For men like us? Does that matter? A hole, in your heart. A yearning, which needs love, affection. That lies there, and that King James fills it. But we leave it in the end, Jack. We get the hell over it, so to speak.'

'There's something there,' murmured Jack Crawford, clutching even more strongly at the leather bound tome in his hands.'

The doctor looked at his patient. This didn't surprise him. Nervous breakdowns were common. He, himself, was deistic ultimately. A higher power explained his own questions, but it was not the focus. Morality was inherent in the design. The way they had come to be. But obsession over it, in this doctor's eyes, had ruined more souls than it had ever saved. Souls who had been upright citizens of their country, lost on obsessions of puritanism, a drug that had infested his nation far too long.

'Get the hell over it, Jack. Life goes on. Whatever you think you need in that book doesn't matter that much in the eyes of eternity.'

'Then what does?'

The psychologist remained silent. He had answers. Jack needed his own. He offered a thought, though. 'Whatever is out there, Crawford, in the end, scum like Hannibal Lecter will get what is coming to them, and good guys, like us, well….. Well, if more is to come, then so be it.'

Jack nodded, coldly. But, yeah. Whatever it was. Whatever was at that altar, he would let it be now. He served a purpose. He served a point. If he really needed faith, then….Well all in God's good time.

Later that afternoon, he sat down in a park not far from home, looked at one last verse in the bible, a quote from genesis. 'The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil'. He underlined it with a marker, left the bible on his bench seat, and walked off. He had his answers. He had enough answers. And whatever he was, as a man, Hannibal Lecter was not. That much, deep, deep down, he knew enough to be true.

Clarice Starling was sitting on a bench near the training ground of Quantico, leafing through various files. She was currently a Crimes analyst, working at Quantico itself, preparing and researching a book on serial killers, their internal motivations, and psychological profiles. One case, Hannibal Lecter, was the subject of much of the book matter.

From a distance Jack Crawford observed her, not coming near, just for a moment watching her, noticing her face, even her physique, but such thoughts being quickly rebuked.

'Clarice,' said Jack, presenting himself.

'Mr Crawford,' responded the FBI agent. 'A pleasure to see you.'

'Thanks Clarice. Do you mind?' he queried, indicating the seat next to her.

Clarice moved over a little, and Jack Crawford sat down. He pulled out a lunchbox from his leather satchel, took out a salami and tomato sandwich, offered one to Clarice who shook her head, and started eating.

'We have an issue, Clarice. An unpleasant one.'

Clarice looked at him momentarily, and returned her gaze forwards. 'I'm sure the FBI can handle whatever the situation is. I'm non-operational. Just a desk job, now, Jack. Had my fill, I guess.'

'A good agent never has their fill,' said Jack. 'Not an FBI agent anyway. We're not just cops, Clarice. We can't just run away and hide when the going gets tough. This is a dirty world, and its full of dirty crime, and the strongest of us need to stand against that crime.'

'Still preaching, I see,' said Clarice.

'I'm not preaching. Its the reality.'

'Yes Batman,' she replied.

Jack didn't say anything, but continued eating his sandwich, and soon started sipping on juice. Then he reached down into his satchel and pulled out a manilla folder. 'The Shark' was emblazoned over the cover. He placed it in her lap, and continued sipping his juice.

She looked at it momentarily, but said nothing.

'The Shark is the worst we've encountered.'

'Why the name?' asked Clarice.

'It's unpleasant said Jack.'

'Nothing shocks me much anymore, Mr Crawford.'

'He amputates them first. That much we have worked out. But he feeds the limbs to sharks. And then, presumably, throws in the victim into the water, drowning them, eaten by the shark usually.'

'Lovely,' said Clarice, picking up the fille and looking through some of the photographs.

'Has a Jaws fixation,' said Jack. 'Quotes from the novel are always found on laminated cards shoved into the bodies throats.'

'He has a sense of humour.'

'Not sure about that, though, anyway,' said Jack.

'About what?' asked Clarice.

'That its a guy. One letter the Shark signed. Good luck catching me fellas. I'm a really nasty bitch when it comes right down to it.'

'A woman,' said Clarice, momentarily surprised.

'It looks that way.'

Clarice looked at the photographs a little longer, and then handed the folder back to Jack. 'Not my concern,' she said. 'I'm committed to my writings.'

'There's a catch,' said Jack.

'Which is?' queried Clarice.

'One letter. Sent to us. From the shark.'

'What did it say.'

'Hope uncle Hannibal is entertaining you. He's one hell of a guy.'

Clarice turned and looked deep into the eyes of Jack Crawford.

'I'll start next week,' she said shortly.

'I'll start brewing the coffee,' responded Jack Crawford, and briefly smiled to himself, stood, raised his hand in a farewell gesture, and slowly left the grounds of the Quantico training facility.

Clarice sat there, going through the remainder of her lunchbreak and, looking out at the recrutits going through their drills, said to herself. 'I can't escape you, can I Hannibal?'

The leaves rustled in the wind, the recruits hollered and yelled and continued their drills, and silence was the only other reply.

Clarice Starling was driving her Ford Focus, an Australian model she'd had imported and changed the steering wheel from right hand drive to left hand drive, simply because she loved the car so much, through the countryside of Washington state, pine trees enshrouding her, lost in thought.

'She'd looked at the email from Jack on the Shark. 17 victims so far in the last 2 years, and no substantial leads. They'd followed the usual investigative techniques, followed up on the traditional contacts, and were at an end of their tether. What next? Hannibal, next. Naturally. But Jack wanted Clarice to handle that. Clarice got results.

The Shark, it seemed to Clarice, was not a woman. Too cruel. Too viscious. Too dark to be a woman. She knew her sex well, she was a woman, and they rarely were involved in the seedy work of serial killing. It was not unknown, and indications were strong in this case that a woman was potentially the prime suspect. But something wasn't right. She smelled a rat. Something – different.

In her years of experience she'd developed a certain healthy respect for Serial killers. Not any admiration for their nobility of character, for they were the devil's own. But a grudging respect for the cavalier 'Fuck the World' mentality which granted them the absolute liberties they claimed. They didn't care. They had no respect for conventions, no respect for societal norms, no respect for the law. In a strange way, while he repulsed the deepest fears in the heart of Clarice Starling, that brutal savagery of freedom both disturbed Clarice, but in that fear she found a crude and animalistic respect. Respect for the killer at the head of the pack. Respect for the brutal alpha male who twisted, cut, and sank his fangs into all challengers and did what he would. She repented of it constantly. But it was a dark desire, born in the silence of lambs, which pervaded her thoughts, especially on quiet nights, lonely nights, when she dreamed evil dreams, and visions of blood filled her head.

She shook off this thought, and reminded herself she was agent of the law, but Hannibal's grinning madness condemned her still, cited her hypocritical devotion to a manmade rule, only made to control and restrict.

God she hated him.

She hated him.

Shortly the pines gave way, and she approached Cardleford Washington FBI headquarters. There was an officer at the gate, and she handed him her pass. He looked her over, checking her pass.

'Thanks Ms Starling. Agent Crawford is expecting you.'

She smiled, and received back her card and drove into the facility, parking.

Coming to the front entrance she entered and found a reception area, a young woman seated, smiling at her as she approached.

'Here to see Agent Jack Crawford. Clarice Starling. Quantico.'

The woman nodded, checked her screen, and said, 'Level 3. B Wing. He's in special crimes office.'

She nodded, and looked at the elevator, but the recent health kick she was on forced her to the stairs.

Finding B wing, she found the glass door, knocked, and an officer shortly answered.

'Clarice Starling,' she said, showing her ID.

'Clarice. I've heard a lot about you. Agent Hawkins. Come in.'

Clarice entered the building. It was traditional FBI, more modern looking then some place, and Jack was at the back of the room, next to the photocopying machine, looking out the windows at the surrounding grounds.

Jack turned and looked at her. 'The coffee is still brewing. Sorry,' he apolgized, pointing to the coffee machine near the copier.

'That's ok,' said Clarice.

She entered the room, and found a seat opposite Jack's desk.

'So,' he said.

'Yes,' she replied.

'You know Clarice, I'm really very grateful. We can handle this, you know. But there is a connection between you and Hannibal. Something in you he respects. You'll get to him when others won't.'

'What's first?' she asked.

'I'll show you the bodies. They're in the morgue down below. Then we'll have some lunch and talk through the case this afternoon. Agent Hakwins here has been on the case from the beginning. He'll fill you in on were we are up to.'

'Great,' said Clarice.

'Remember, Clarice. Hannibal trusts you in his own convoluted way. You have an opportunity to get information on the Shark another officer might just run into a brick wall on.'

'If you think so,' responded Clarice.

'Your too humble,' he responded.

'Have their been any new victims?' she asked agent Hawkins.

'Not since early February. Two months. But, following the pattern, its only a matter of time,' responded the agent.

'Then we have no time to waste,' said Clarice.

The coffee machine started beeping. 'Coffee?' asked Jack.

Clarice nodded.

Later that afternoon, Jack had worked up a bit of a sweat, showing Clarice all around the compound, and had showered, and was in his office, reading, of all things, the Bible. He needed a break from it all, all the heaviness, all the gruesome details, and found comfort in the gospel, and sat there, looking out the window. He had an email in his inbox. From June. June Middlesworth. She was in his church, the Elect Church of the Living God, and they were not exactly large worldwide. They were Pentecostal, and true to the faith of the Word, but they were at odds with the world. At odds with a society which fascinated in monsters like Hannibal Lecter. They were the chosen ones, they told each other. The true chosen ones.

It was believed, in the church, that the return of the saviour was imminent, but before that, a world holocaust, of judgement and wrath of God. For the scriptures did not lie. And Jesus would return, upon the trumpet of the Angel Uriel, the firstborn Son of God, for Jesus was Christ, in the Kingdom of the Elect Angels, and Uriel would sit as King at the Grand Coming, and the Prince of the Covenant, the Lord Jesus, would show his love and his grace and his salvation as the Elect Angelic Christ. And, so it was believed, Jesus would sit in Jerusalem, and Uriel in China, for ancient text of 'The Word of Heaven', the text afore Genesis in the Holy Bible, spoke of Uriel's people and that the first man, Dirt, was indeed born in the mysterious east. Yet Christ came from Israel, and all the nations had their tutelary angelic Prince, each who would rule the world in the grand and glorious Kingdom of God upon the coming of their Lord and Saviour. And this Jack believed, and it gave him confidence and faith, and he could stare down creatures like Hannibal Lecter because of it, because he knew his judgement was coming.

He would leave the email – till the morning. Get in early, and pray a little, and see what June had to say. But he was finished for the night, and going out of the office, he thought on the grim work ahead of them, and sighed. Another day – another dirty dollar.

Chapter Two

Work In Progress

Angels of Faith

"Through the Realm of Splendour to the Heart of Hope"

Saruviel Savereign sat in quiet contemplation. 'What was the purpose of the Realm of Splendour, in the end? What was its grand and great purpose in the design of God? Of course, there was something in the heart that told him, something whispered in dreams, that he had been before. That, in some way, in some other life, he had been, had partaken of Glory, and then had rested for a while. And then he had lived again and rested again. And then again. And perhaps that had been all that had been, those lifetimes, but here he was again. Again, on a new road, on a new destiny. Saruviel had hope in life, now. In some ways he had known in his heart that in earlier lifetimes he had lacked this hope somewhat. That he had lacked this faith in life, this belief and desire for good things in the future. But now he had faith in hope. He was an angel of faith who had faith in hope, and a desire for good things to come for him in life, as well as for others. He loved his daughter, Jenny Savereign, a child who was continually displaying love, affection and kindness towards all those around her. She was a treasure, dear Jenny. A pure treasure.

But now he sought purpose in life. A purpose for his realm, the realm he had charge over, and dare he say it, glory? Should he really seek such passions? In the end, perhaps not. Quiet glories, more calming, more relaxing, as in the still of the night. Darker more restful passions. Darker, gentler, quieter spirits. And for the Realm of Splendour, its splendour, in his heart, Saruviel knew to be a quiet splendour, gentle and restful, refreshing the soul, and being a solace for those visitors from other realms when they frequented in their walks of life.

He thought on his new consort. Victoria. Victoria had been with several partners over her age long life, and had begotten a number of children. But presently she was entertaining her soul and heart in the arms of Saruviel Savereign. They would not marry for Victoria had told him in no uncertain terms that she'd married enough in her life and that partnerships and friendships, consorts and lovers, were now the thing of the day for her. And, as such, she could move from one lover to the next, enjoying the beauties and treasures the hearts of the children of God who admired her could offer her. She told him, once, she still maintained friendship with most of her past lovers, but something she communicated early on in the relationship was this: "Lovers come, lovers go, in truth you will find an eternal home."

He thought on those words. In some ways they could cut a heart, and he dared say that Victoria had cut many hearts in her lifes sojourn. But what else could she really do? What else, really? So many had adored her, her charms, her love, her beauty? Surely she must subject herself to those passions, but then? Well, she had a fair number of passionate lovers to satisfy, and while she remained faithful, so she said, to a certain few of them who really touched her, she loved them all and walked on through her fantasy life, enjoying the splendours life offered her, and touching those who loved her with her graces, passions, fantasies and joys.

And, in truth, knowing her situation, and her own frail angelicdom, how could he really find fault. And so, in the time he had with her, he would love her, show her grace, and entertain her with the glories the Realm of Splendour had to offer.

Still waters. Gliding across. Floating. Calm. Graceful. Peace. Peace. Peace.

Gentle heart. Gentle soul. Gentle hands. Gentle arms. Gentle Man.

Saruviel was her hearts rest right at this very moment in time. Lying in his arms, on the still waters of Lake Neverending, floating on the 'Boat of Dreams', in the still of eternal twilight of this part of the Realm, her heart was at rest. Her heart was at peace. She watched as the Doves above, the blue doves of the realm, flew across the sky, headed for an unknown destination. She watched and let her heart slip away into the bliss of Neverending, into the bliss of the Realm of Splendour.

A little later a white Dragon flew by overhead, breathing soft light yellow fire out of its mouth, its wings flapping in slow, steady fashion, pursuing whatever agenda was on its mind. And suddenly a Golden Dolphin lunged out of the water near the boat, twirled in mid air, and returned to its cool sanctuary. This was life, it seemed, in the Realm of Splendour. A realm full of all the wonders and treasures of the heart and mind of God.

Gentle heart. She loved him. Gentle soul. She loved him. Gentle hands. She appreciated them. Gentle arms. She needed them. Gentle Man. She loved him.

Still waters. Gliding across. Floating. Calm. Graceful. Peace. Peace. Peace.

A Sprite appeared to Victoria in the dead of the night, awakening her from her slumber. The Sprite was a 'Cumbulian' sprite, a rarer breed of sprites in the Realm of Splendour. It spoke these words to Victoria after having woken her from her sleep. 'The things of the day, the things of the night, in sequential harmony, a happy delight. Through a Realm so splendid, with your guiding light, your heart of hope, is fair Saruviel's might.'

And then the sprite disappeared, through the window of the castle tower, off flying into the twilight bliss.

Watching it go she puzzled whatever those words could possibly mean but, eventually letting the puzzle remain just that, returned to her resting place, letting those words echo into her soul as she searched again for quiet repose.

She looked on as the Fateful Four, four powerful white rabbits battled the Fearsome Five, five extraordinary orange turtles, in a game of 'Superball'. It was a bright sunny day in the Realm of Splendour and she was relaxed, happy and at peace. She took another sip from her cocktail glass and looked over at Saruviel. He seemed content, watching the game, and his daughter, young Jenny, who was flirting wildly with some of the younger male angels in attendance at the tournament of Superball champions.

'Goal!' yelled one of the white rabbits, having just scored. The turtles looked upset, but still held a five to four lead. It would be close.

'Is the match entertaining you, dear Victoria?' inquired the Lord Savereign.

'It is a pleasant affair. The beverages are quite fine, though. Is there any more ice?'

Saruviel motioned a servant over and had him fetch some more ice. He returned promptly with a cold ice bucket and some more bottles of chilled alcoholic beverages.

As she watched on the turtles eventually emerged triumphant 7 to 5 and would now play off in the next and final game of the tournament, against the 'Six Splendid Serpents'.

'And who should I wager the victory upon, dear Vicky?'

'Why the Six Splendid Serpents, dear Saruviel. Who else?'

'So shall it be.' Saruviel motioned for a servant and instructed him to place a thousand credit bet on the Six Splendid Serpents with the bookies.

'Let us hope your intuition fairs us well, dear maiden,' said Saruviel, watching on anxiously as the match got under way.

45 minutes later, the second half just concluding, Saruviel was presented with a coupon honouring him for 1500 credits, his winnings. He glanced at Victoria. 'You have brought me good luck today, fair maiden. We shall have a wonderful dinner as your due reward.'

'Gracious host,' she said, bowing her head to him.

They were at 'Cuisine on High', a restaurant atop Mt Hadranas, the highest mountain peak in the Realm of Splendour, the highest restaurant, and by far the most expensive. The entrée itself cost over 1000 credits. But her lord, Saruviel, had promised her the finest cuisine money could buy as her reward for his good luck and having flown to the Hadranas province later in the day, they had journeyed up the cable cars to the restaurant and were delighted with the best view of Hadranas the province could offer.

'What should we eat, fair maiden. The menu is yours. Whatever you choose.'

Victoria looked through the menu and found a dish she liked.

'Oysters for the entrée would be ideal,' she said. 'And duck for the main course would be lovely.'

'As you wish.'

They chatted for a while, reflecting on the last few days together, when the entrée arrived. Saruviel took a sip of wine and split open an oyster which had not been opened. And, surprise of surprises, a pearl greeted him. He took it out, looked it over, and presented it to his maid. 'Your luck is beyond measure, fair maiden, and I thus present you this pearl for your honour.'

'Thank you, kind sir,' she replied, and took the pearl, placing it into her purse.

The night passed with fine food and song, and Victoria caught Saruviel looking at her occasionally from the corner of her eye, apparently quite taken with his current consort.

When Victoria wed Saruviel she had come through a journey of the heart. She had chosen this prince of the Realm for many reasons, not least of which his esteemed position and his glorious name. Yet there was something else. Something in the sophistication and quite charm of Saruviel. His heart was full of hope for life and the future. It was disguised in romanticism and frivolity over the realm they lived in, but it was honest and true and she trusted it.

She had hope for a good marriage, a lasting marriage, not necessarily an eternal one, for she disdained such realities. But he was a brave soul, and as they caroused through the realm of Splendour she softly admired his grace and charms and found quite comfort in the choice her soul had made.

THE END

"Victoria and the 6th Primal Element"

by

Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

Born in 'Kingston Upon Hull' in the United Kingdom

On the 20th of November, 1972 CE, aka the First Day of Purple 9 BKW (9 Years Before Kimberley Walsh) or 0 DD (0 Daniel Daly) in the Six Hexellavere Yearly System.

The Six Hexellavere's are:

Purple (The 20th of November to the 19th of January),

Red (The 20th of January to the 19th of March),

Orange (The 20th of March to the 19th of May),

Yellow (The 20th of May to the 19th of July),

Green (The 20th of July to the 19th of September),

Blue (The 20th of September to the 19th of November).

There are approximately 60 days in each Hexellavere.

The full 6 Hexellaveres are called a 'Year'.

45 'Years' in a row are called a 'Natural Cycle'.

9 Years in a Row are called an 'Era'.

There are '5' 'Eras' in a 'Natural Cycle'

The 5 Eras are called

1) 'Daniel' (eg 20th of November 1972)

2) 'Kimberley' (eg 20th of November 1981)

3) ' ' (eg 20th of November 1990)

4) ' ' (eg 20th of November 1999)

5) ' ' (eg 20th of November 2008)

There are '4' 'Cycles' in an 'Epoch'

9 is Daniel's Lucky Number

The Shamrock has 3 Leaves.

3 Shamrock's are called a 'Collection' of Shamrocks.

A 'Collection' of Shamrocks has 9 leaves.

Within the Natural Cycle comes

'Intelligence'

The number of Intelligence is 45.

The number of Eternity is 45.

The number of Infinity is 45.

The number of Truth is 45.

The Natural Cycle is based on

'Daniel'

The number of Daniel is 45 in both the 'Natural Cycle' system

And the English Noahide Gematria Ordinal Equivalent system.

The Standard Julian Calendar is used to follow the yearly system, as society currently maintains. We do not worry about trying to have 'Exact' solar years in length, as this is practically impossible to maintain in the Julian system. Thus the 'Hexellavere' system is a close 'Approximate' yearly system. It is quite sufficient. Of course, we recognize the 'Solstice to Solstice' as the perfect measurement of the Solar Year. Further we recognize the natural cycles of Plants and Animals throughout the year as often measuring the Yearly system.

Victoria wasn't stupid. 'You are using 'Arse' Daniel. Nothing but a lot of 'Arse'. I mean, come on. You're making it all up.'

Daniel looked at his beloved Vicky. 'Hey, some fucker has to start these things. May as well be me.'

'And I suppose you get all the glory, huh?'

'May as well.'

'Right.'

'Cool.'

'So what is the 6th Primal Element.'

'Fixing up your mistakes.'

'?'

'Repentance, Sorrow, Atonement. Oh, and simply making corrections in things when you have made mistakes. Learning, in other words. Learning.'

'Mmm. Interesting.'

'That's right, cupcake. I wasn't born yesterday.'

'Ok. Oh, and the Seventh?'

'Perfection.'

'And who is that?'

'Saruviel.'

'And what is beyond Perfection, Mr Daly?'

'Oh, well, seeing as you are showing actual intelligence, I will fill you in. Once you have achieved perfection, nothing more is asked of you. You are complete and needing nothing more. But you can increase in levels of quality. Perfection is simply a base level. It has no flaws, no problems, no sins, no unpleasant bits. It is simply, though, at a less complex level. There is nothing wrong with Perfection. For example, the English Alphabet of 26 letters is a 'Perfect' Alphabet. And the standard English Dictionary is a 'Perfect' Dictionary. But further levels of complexity can be achieved. This needs to be remembered, and will inevitably be remembered – the base level is fine – we are simply progressing in knowledge and complexity – we have no problems with the lower levels. Just a lot of friendly rivalry.'

'Thanks.'

'Think nothing of it. Glad to be of help.'

THE END

Angels of Faith

'Victoria'

'Victoria.'

'Her. You can't be serious.'

'I am.'

'Well, if you insist.' Jock McGarran signalled for the master of the deck to bring in Victoria.

A few moments later, entering the 'deck' as it was called, escorted by the master of the deck, Victoria stood before the council of thought.

'You do know our authority, don't you Victoria?'

'I am aware of it,' responded Victoria Adams.

'You are aware of Uriel's commission towards the Council of Thought. Of our role in the Realm of Splendour.'

'I have read something of the literature.'

Jock McGarran nodded. 'Admittance to the Council of Thought by a woman is not uncommon. Neither is it that common, lady. Neither is that common.'

'I have served with fidelity and truth. I have kept the commission of an Arch-Guardian, and reprimanded the wicked, speaking the words of FOUNDATION. I have been honourable,' said Victoria, in her defense.

Jock considered her. She stood there with a quiet posture, but one of strength. Strength appropriate for an Arch-Guardian. She had a confidence, unlike so many others. So many of the trillions of souls in the Realm of Splendour who went there merry way with little thought for law and order – for preserving the teachings of FOUNDATION – for living lives worthy of those called to there heavenly reward by the grace of Lord Uriel.

'Do you have eternity in you, Victoria Adams? Do you have eternity in you?'

Victoria stood there. She would not answer that question.

Jock stared at her and turned to Dennis Leary, the one who had suggested her. 'Do you have questions for the candidate? We have one more of the proposed list of 7. If this is the one you desire, query her to bring forth elucidation as to why we should accept a woman.

Dennis nodded. 'Victoria. What is the unknown element?'

Jock smiled to himself. Nobody ever answered this question correctly.

Victoria stood there, firm, knowingly. 'Why, I am the unknown element.'

Jock was stunned. He asked her the second question, butting in. 'And what is the mystery of the unknown element, dear Victoria?'

'Now that would be telling,' she said, in the cutest of voices, in the cutest of smiles, and Jock nodded to himself. Indeed, she knew to answer well.

They saw one other candidate, and sat in review. 4 hours they discussed each candidate they had known for many years now, and Jock was left with the final decision for two of them.

'She is indeed a woman,' he said to the council. 'She is indeed a woman.'

Victoria Adams was promoted to the 'Council of Thought' in the Realm of Splendour. Practically the highest role capable of achievement by a woman in the heavenlies – practically. But could she ever really challenge for Arch-Regency. A woman had never known the job but, technically, could. Technically.

She was brought to the ceremony, blindfolded, and stood in a room filled with men. They put a black robe on her, with a Scarlett sash. They placed a coronet on her forehead, a coronet of a princess, and kneeled in front of her. The 99 strong assembly then stood, and came forward, patting there 100th and newest addition on the back, welcoming her to the council of thought. Glory she had achieved indeed.

The End

Foundation's Beginning

'Foundation exists to serve. Foundation exists to rule. Foundation exists for wealth. Foundation exists for the eternal glory of those who become foundation. Foundation is the be all and end all of your life, now, dear servants of the Creator of Glory, for Foundation is You and You are foundation.'

Victoria said nothing. Those kneeling in front of the 'Arch-Supremator' said nothing. They had no permission to speak, and the punishment would be severe if they in fact did so. The Arch-Regent, ruler of the Council of Thought came forward. 'Honourable Arch-Supremator. These are your servants. Servants of the rule of law of Foundation. Servants of the Truth of God's glory. Welcome them, I adjure you, by the mercies of the Living God, into service for the Realm of Splendour.'

The Arch-Supremator said nothing. The words of the Arch-Regent were correct and according to the protocols of ceremony. He raised his divine staff, and pointed it in the direction of the Servants of Foundation. 'Honorary members of the Council of Thought. Foundation is your beginning, and Foundation is your ending. Arise, servants of the Glory of the Resplendid one Upon High, and claim your destiny.'

They stood, as one, and came forward, and each received a small staff, a foot long in length, as befitted their statuses. Each received, and bowed to the Arch-Supremator, honouring his esteemed status, and walked past the Arch-Regent, each giving him a little bit of a wink or a smile, as was acceptable, and proceeded along the pathway out of the ceremony hall.

Later on, with a number of her fellow council of thought members in quite an intoxicated state, Victoria was feeling good. She was, officially, now a member of 'Foundation' alongside the 7 other newer members of the Council of Thought which had been accepted into the Jurisdiction and Ruling Authority of the Highest body of law and power in the Realm of Splendour. Officially, as a member of the Council of Thought, you were a servant of Foundation but not a member of Foundation – you had no direct influence on policy, but carried out your duties without question or concern. Yet, when officially inducted into the elite of the Council of Thought, those members chosen for and accepted officially into Foundation, of which the Council of Thought was a functioning body of, your status grew and you were presented your first staff. Officially, there were 8 staffs, but only 7 were available. Nobody could claim 'Moses' staff, lest he voluntarily gave it up, which he had yet to do. The Lawgiver of Torah ruled Foundation, the Arch-Supremator answerable directly to him. Foundation was one of the 3 divine bodies of law which ruled the Realm of Splendour. The Sanhedrin of Rabbinic Wisdom was one of the other bodies, which ruled spiritual law, and the civic council of Governance ruled everyday mundane matters of civil law and rule. Moses, naturally, was the higher power behind each of the 3 seats of law, and had the 3 staffs of power because of it. Yet, so it was stated in the divine codes, if Moses were to ever choose a successor, so he could by his own authority granted him by the Most High.

Foundation itself was the culmination of the work of Torah and Civil governance. It was the final prize of God's glory – representing the unification of both works and the official pronouncement of the hidden mysteries and knowledges of creation, and the power to control and rule the universe with all its divine and physical laws and rules. The Council of Thought, which was one of the bodies of Foundation, ruled the hearts and minds of men, analysing their consciences, analysing their desires, analysing their good and evil impulses, and judging them accordingly. It was on such a council that Victoria sat, one member of one hundred, with a vast dominion of servants beneath her.

It was, indeed, an awesome responsibility. It was an awesome life and calling after all. And as she steadily grew more tipsy, joining her fellow new foundation members, she prayed a silent prayer to the eternal glory upon high, thanking him for his gracious calling upon her life. Thanking him most sincerely.

The End

'Victoria and Foundation'

'Victoria. One must have faith in God. One must have faith in truth. One must have faith in love.'

'Yes, Master Moshe.'

'Are you sure this 'Daniel' you speak of is an angel of faith.'

'He is as I,' responded Victoria.

'An Angel of Faith?' he questioned, not looking at her. She said nothing.

Moses sat on his throne of glory, gazed out at the entourage of the court, the three staffs of power standing in their sockets on the front of the thrones floor, just in front of Moses.

'I need not a successor of poverty in faith. I need not a successor in grave disbelief of the power and authority of the Most High. This Daniel has serious defects of character that we have heard reports of.'

Victoria stayed silent.

'He is known to visit daughters of darkness for carnal pleasure.'

Victoria said nothing.

'His sarcasm and mockery are well recorded.'

Victoria spoke not a word.

'His reputation is highly questionable.'

Victoria finally spoke. 'His genius is beyond that of mortals – it is beyond that of angels – it is divine. He has – a way. A way with words, which convince you of great things. His way to inspire others is profound. His knowledge of the 3 branches is immaculate.'

'These things are true and known,' said Moshe to the court in general. Nobody stirred.

Moses looked at the head of foundation. 'Tis a risk, dear, dear Victoria. Tis a risk.'

'You would rather continue into perpetuity in your chosen role?' she said boldly, looking right into his eyes.

Moses looked at her, but spoke not. Her candidate had been proclaimed. The two others – David Rothchild and Jesus of Nazareth were also to be considered. Victoria had put forward her name. He would be considered.

Daniel looked down. It was about 30 feet down to the dirt. He had no shoes on. He could break a leg. Fuck, he could break his back. He could end up a cripple. Was it worth it? Was the glory worth the price?

'Dutch courage, son,' he told himself.

He stepped off.

Victoria sat in the hall of silence, and gazed at the complex patterns on the floor. They had been re-arranged. It was a necessity. The choosing of Daniel as the ultimate authority over the 3 staffs of power decreed a rearrangement of things out of a sense of divine protocol. Victoria had not objected.

How would things be now? Under Daniel? How would the world change? How would things be? Was Victoria the greatest of fools? Or was Victoria as wise as she hoped herself to be.

Time, as they say, would tell. Only dear, dear, time.

The End

Angels of Faith

Uriel and the Dragon

Chapter One

'Uriel, Uriel, Uriel. What are we to do with an angel as stupid as yourself? For the firstborn Divine Angel of the Realm of Splendour, you really are thick, aren't you?' Sitting in the heart of the Realm of Splendour, on the district of Pelnaphora, north-east of Zaphora, sitting at a table, in a café, in downtown Beijing, current capital city of Pelnaphora district, Uriel, chinese angel of Glory, smiled at the angel Xaddadaxx's comment. He was sitting with Xaddadaxx, Kalan and Mallintor, three close Cherubim angel friends. They had, over the last few hundred thousand years, become something of a little friendship club. It had begun when Uriel and his twin Karel were visiting them, had dropped in on Azion the Golden City, and had found the 3 Cherubim angels at another lunch place, caught up on old happenings, and sort of developed a friendship. And now the 4 of them were a close-knit unit which saw each other quite a lot.

'I know,' said Kalan. 'We kidnap him and sell him into slavery to an Ultra-Orthodox Rabbi. They usually don't mind such things as slaves.'

'Uriel? A slave?' said Mallintor. 'He wouldn't last a bloody day.'

'Perhaps I should sell the three of you into slavery,' responded Uriel, which brought some chuckles from the group.

Xaddadaxx brought out a comic. It was from DC-Asia, and it featured the popular Asian Batman known by his real name, funnily enough, as 'Jackie Chan' which was Uriel's human name. 'So, do you read your adventures very much?' Xaddadaxx asked Uriel.

'Very funny,' responded Uriel. 'It is only loosely based on me. Everyone knows that.'

'I don't know,' responded Xaddadaxx. 'There are a lot of things I notice in it after a while. A lot of things. Anyway, Batman fights 'The Dragon' in this issue. His most deadly adversary. Check this out.' Xaddadaxx turned to the last page of the comic, and it showed the dragon biting off a finger of the Batman, with blood spurting everywhere.'

'I bet that hurt,' said Kalan.

'It's not real,'responded Uriel. 'Just fantasy.'

'What do you reckon, lads,' said Xaddadaxx. 'Do you think Uriel, Batman here, could fight the real Dragon in real life?'

'He'd get his ass kicked,' said Kalan.

'The beast would devour him,' said Mallintor dramatically.

Uriel looked at the picture of the Dragon. Supposedly the Dragon was modelled on the figure of 'Bane' in the American Version of the Comic. Bane had once broken Batman's back, in an ancient earth issue, and along with the Joker was Batman's most feared and hated opponent.

'He does look pretty spectacular,' said Kalan.

'Uriel wouldn't stand a chance,' said Mallintor.

Xaddadaxx stared at Uriel. 'What do you reckon, Uriel? How would you go?'

'I'd do fine,' responded Uriel, looking at the dread Dragon. 'He is only human after all. I have experience on my side.'

'Interesting,'said Xaddadaxx stroking his chin, his mind working on overtime. 'I'll have to remember that.'

They continued going through the comic, ordering cappuccinos and lattes as the afternoon passed, and as Uriel fell asleep that night, next to his twin Karel, his dreams were full of Jokers and Riddlers and a very dark and dangerous looking Dragon right at the dramatic ending.

Chapter Two

Uriel woke in a sweat. The Dragon had had him cornered, again, for the 7th night in a row, and he woke suddenly, unable to defeat his opponent. He tried to shake the dream from his mind, and getting up, turning on the shower, he reminded himself again – it was only a dream.

At the breakfast table Karel looked at him seriously. 'Perhaps you should get some help. See a dream doctor, or something. This isn't normal. No matter the games Xaddy likes to play, this is just not normal.'

'Dream doctor?' queried Uriel.

'Down town. Near the central hospital. Doctor Chiu is very qualified. He has dealt with me before, don't you remember?'

'Uh, no,' said Uriel, munching on a piece of toast. 'Besides, they are only dreams. They don't mean anything.'

'Dreams are fundamental portents on life, Uriel. Don't be so naïve.'

He looked at her, and decided what the hell. 'What's the address?'

She fished around in her bag, produced an old card, and handed it to him.

'So you'll go?' she asked.

'I'll think about it,' responded Uriel.

Uriel sat in the waiting room of Dr Chiu's dream centre. There were a few other people waiting on the doctor, regular looking people, the kind of people you wouldn't normally expect to have problems with dreams. But everyone suffered nightmares at times, didn't they? Around the walls of the centre were posters and diagrams of all sorts, very new agey looking, very dreamscape looking. One poster featured a head of a male human, with clouds in the background, and a pentagram figure overlaying the picture, with strange symbols in a circular fashion encrusting the pentagram – almost satanic symbolism, to the wondering Uriel. There were astrological symbols of the Zodiac as well as the Chinese symbols everywhere. Also, there was a flowing water fountain in the centre of the waiting room, with what looked like goldfish and the noise of a ribbiting frog was emerging from it. It was also filled with little figurines of angels and fairies and the like. The epic was a wall banner of wool felting which had 'Dreams' written on it in various colours, and it seemed, in a strange way, quite comforting to Uriel. There was also burning incense smell in the room, little packages of 'FREE' soap hanging around on the magazine tables, and a number of other little signs with various proverbs written on them all around the lower half of the walls. Finally, there was a mural on the roof with mermaids in the centre of it, and anxious looking sailors seemingly desiring them. It was a very strange feeling and, coupled with the New Age music pouring forth from hidden speakers, it was as if he had stepped into another world. A world of fantasy.

The receptionist spoke his name and he came forward. 'Dr Chiu will see you now. She is very professional, so you needn't be concerned.'

'I thought Dr Chiu was a man?'

'Oh, he is. He married not long ago, and his wife works here as well. They are both very professional, so you needn't worry about anything. Just tell him all your concerns. That door, there?' she said pointing. 'The Red door.'

Uriel nodded, came over to the door and knocked, and was immediately greeted with a very attractive Chinese lady, dressed in green, like a princess, her hair all done up, and smelling wonderful. 'Come in, Uriel. It is a great pleasure to meet you,' she responded.'

He came inside, and she indicated a bed for him to lie down upon. He lay down, and she sat on her couch near the bed, reached for a remote control, and, put the music on to a relaxing theme, with angelic Chinese voices singing alleluias, and a soft nature sound in the background. She handed him a little pill.

'What's this?' he asked.

'Do you think you can trust me?' she replied.

He popped the pill into his mouth, she handed him a little cup of water, and he washed it down, and he lay back down.

'Now relax,' she said. 'Relax. You will soon be in dreamland, and we will see what needs to be seen. I will be there with you shortly, and we will find out what issues the spirit world has with Uriel the Seraphim. Now relax, relax. Drift away, into sleep, into slumber. Relax, child of the most high.'

And Uriel, feeling suddenly ever so calm and at rest, at peace, drifted away, into slumber, into dreamland, a blissful feeling coming over his heart, soul and mind.

Chapter Three

Dr Chiu was on the ledge of a large skyscraper, standing there, looking down occasionally, almost ready to jump, but then turned her gaze towards the west, towards the setting sun, towards the final night.

Uriel spoke. 'The Dragon's final attack is tonight. The legion is ready for the final battle – the codes have been honoured, the agreement is firm, the winner takes it all.'

'Good,' responded Dr Chiu philosophically. She looked down at the darkening alley, were werewolves and vampires and witches and demons were at play, in the depths of the darkness of New Yorks Hell underground, snickering at angels of light, snickering and mocking them, daring them to once again take control of a once proud city.'

'Are you ready?' she asked Uriel.

He spread his wings, and started floating downwards, down into hell, and Dr Chiu Jumped, falling down at an incredible velocity, descending down into the darkness, descending down into hell.

Leo 5 was at the portal Gate. He never failed. He never fucked up. Whatever the Dragon threw at him, he resisted. He was just too tough.

Uriel and Dr Chiu, having come through the dark alleys of hell, the various denizens snarling at them, but not prepared to engage with the famed warriors of virtue, came to the portal, and Uriel patted Leo 5 on the back. 'Good work, Lionheart,' said Uriel. 'Is the location safe for convergence. We won't suffer static problems again will we? We can't afford anyone to end up in LA or Miami or some were else on the bloody grid.'

'It should be fine. Nobody likes partying at Midnight in hell. Way to dangerous.'

'Oh, there are some sick fucks around,' responded Dr Chiu, looking back down the alley at some of the dark creatures of the night.

'Key in the co-ordinates,' said Uriel, looking at his watch. 'It is just about time.'

Leo 5 keyed in the data, and the City Clock suddenly, right on time, started gonging. When it hit 12, Leo punched the 'Go' key, and the portal shimmered, they stepped in, and into another world.

Chapter Four

Luladiel, 30th female Seraphim of the Realm of splendour, twin to Devuel, stood in the centre of the room, standing out of necessity, for if she were to rest by lying down, the devices attached to her legs would instantly activate, causing the room to explode. The Dragon was not stupid – he knew how to torture his victims.

She thought on her twin, Devuel. Was he, even now, still alive? Could he be? Did Russell have a chance? He had been thrown into the wormpit, the giant death worms pit, and Dragon had laughed his sick laugh, and dragged the frantic Luladiel away, treating her like a sack of old clothes, throwing her over his shoulder as if she were a bauble, and brought her to another room in his Hell Dungeon, explaining to her that when she finally succumbed to rest, she was dead. That was 38 hours ago, now, and she was exhausted.

Thoughts flashed through her mind constantly in the last few hours. Why not simply end it? Give it away? Give up? What purpose did her brave heart have in continuing? She would be dead soon enough.

But a little voice, deep in the heart of Luladiel, said to her, don't give up sweetie. Russell will be here soon enough. Your champion won't let you down. Keep the faith, sweetie.

And so she persevered, and would do so, until she could go on no longer. She owed it to her man. She owed it to herself.

Leo 5 looked at the worm pit. 'He's in here,' he yelled to Uriel and Dr Chiu, who instantly came in to the room. Uriel floated down, his laser ready, and he started shooting worm after worm who attacked him. He found Devuel, in a corner of the pit, in the dark, still fending off the worms, his wings tied, his hands in cuffs. He looked poorly, sick and starving and thirsty.

'It's alright, Dev. We're here,' said Uriel, comforting his brother. He used his laser on a setting, cut through the cuffs carefully, and untied his wing, and they made there way up, carefully, out of the pit, Devuel somehow miraculously finding the strength, shooting off the worms, coming up to the top room.

Leo 5, whose psychic powers had detected Devuel's presence, gave Devuel a jar of water, and drinking it, he managed to splutter the name 'Luladiel,' before finally falling into graceful sleep.

Dr Chiu suddenly entered the room, dragging an exhausted Luladiel, having freed her from her bonds, and she fell at Devuel's feet and started weeping. Leo gave her some water, she drank, and then she gave up, falling asleep next to Devuel.

Leo looked at Uriel. 'How long do we have? Can we rest? We have enough time, don't we?'

'A few hours, maybe,' responded Uriel. 'We will need to be at the arranged battle front by 4 at the latest. The battle will need at least an hour. The Dragon insisted on that. And if we are not finished by daybreak, we forfeit.'

'Then let them rest,' said Leo. 'Mercy demands it.'

Uriel nodded and, sitting down next to Devuel, who was sound asleep, he looked at the doorway, anxious that the Dragon's minions might suddenly show, but realizing that, whatever else, the Dragon was a beast of ancient honour, so indicated that Leo should stand guard, and closed his eyes, drifting off to the slumberland of the Dreamscape world.

Chapter Five

Devuel woke. Uriel stood off, a distance, talking with Leo 5 by the looks of it. He noticed a presence lying against him, and looking, Luladiel was at rest. Thank the Maker – she was safe.

He lay back down, and closed his eyes. He was still tired, very, but something in his blood had told him his rest was done with for the moment – a battle awaited.

He rested there, 5 – 10 minutes, then gently nudged Luladiel whose eyes shot open. 'You are safe,' she said, her hands on his chest.'

'I am safe,' he responded.

A while later, as they were eating through some beef jerky from Leo 5's backsack, Uriel spoke. 'We have not much time. The gathering is converging upon the battle ground – the pit of darkness, near the centre of the stormwarden's crossing.'

'Why the pit of darkness?' asked Devuel. 'Why should we agree to such an advantage for the Dragon. He shall surely be a master in such a theatre. You should know well of the pitfalls that could befall us all there. It is sure to be to a great disadvantage.'

'Yet they were the final terms. We had no choice. The Dragon is cunning and evil, and his followers know no mercy, yet the final war of darkness has culminated, and should we prevail, America will return to the brave and the strong, to the way of light.'

'And the conditions are watertight?' asked Devuel again.

'The beast does know honour. It is his sole virtue in such agreements. The dark will keep the pact should we prevail.'

Devuel nodded, ate some more jerky, and drank from a flask. 'And our numbers?'

'45 chosen. The same for our adversaries. He insisted on certain names, which I likewise was entitled to. Now, upon either side finding 30 slain, the victory shall be claimed. There will be impartial counters present. We have selected three, and so they.'

Again Devuel nodded. Luladiel spoke up. 'Why did you choose us? Surely in our state we would be a hindrance?'

'They were the terms agreed upon for him not interfering with your rescue. We had no choice.'

'I guess you would not know our state,' responded Luladiel depressingly. 'We could well be slain, you know Uriel. Our lives may be forfeit either way.'

Uriel came over, kneeled down, and put his hand to Luladiel's shoulder. 'You are a fair maiden and sister of mine, Luladiel. Your courage is great. I have faith in you. But, yes, I know your frail state. I will watch over you in the heat of battle, as I am sure Devuel will find courage and likewise do. Keep faith, sister. Keep faith.'

She nodded, weakly.

'It is time,' said Dr Chiu. 'We must be about ourselves. The darkness awaits, and I sense its evil mocking already.'

Uriel nodded, looked intently into Luladiel eyes, and she got to her feet, a little shaky, but ready. The final battle awaited – she would have to find the courage within, for the fate of a nation rested on her courage.

Chapter Six

Catholics can be stubborn. Jesus of Nazareth knew this. His bride, the Roman Catholic Church of God's Glory had, in its heart, a very, very stubborn streak when it came to what it felt constituted morality, despite the very best intentions of its Lord and Saviour to persuade it of the morals of the Gospel. She would have such values as Political Correctness, Tolerance, acceptance of Sinners, promotion of Homosexual values, the desire for female priests and so on and so forth, no matter how many rebukes the headship of the church propelled towards the flock. But how could you expect anything else – his bride was only a silly woman anyway, with all the sensibilities of Eve, listening to the Serpent. Perhaps that was why he loved her so much, anyway. Perhaps. But he often contemplated that, at least with a strict Evangelical church, say like the Baptists and so on, at least they would read the bloody gospel. At least they would give a half hearted attempt at obedience, unlike his bride who perpetually sought comfort with the world, and a hell of a lot of 'Lets Get Along' in true universal catholic style. But, hey, in the end, even Jesus Christ needed a break from all the divine teachings of scriptural holiness and obedience, and a woman who would tolerate anything was a great place to escape in the world.

Uriel, Firstborn Archangel of the Realm of Splendour, was such an example in many ways. Jesus had finally converted him to Roman Catholic Faith not that long ago now, after he had been having troubles with dreams and, in sessions with a dream doctor named Dr Chiu, Dr Chiu had uncovered a yearning in the heart of Uriel for the head of the community to finally find a spiritual body – a spiritual movement – a spiritual community – to fellowship with and set an example for for all the citizens of the Realm of Splendour over which he administered as Overseer under the authority of 'Daniel' who held the 3 Staffs of Power.

And then it had been Earth Redux, and the current battleground earth war, especially in America, with the traditional dark forces of evil.

Uriel, as a solid citizen of China, had long been very communistic in his viewpoints, very socialistic, very left wing. And while in initial years of life and existence, he had brought a very strict way of life to the citizens of China, the inevitable political viewpoint that the left wing was far more tolerant than the right wing, ultimately influenced him towards a far more liberal lifestyle. And in this sense, the tolerances of the Roman Catholic Church, the largest Christian Body, in granting a far greater degree of grace usually than the stricter protestant churches in the kinds of behaviour they would tolerate and accept, had been the balm of life which had ultimately persuaded Uriel the Archangel of God to join the Holy Roman Catholic Church of God.

And, now, with Earth Redux, confrontations of various sorts were reaching a climax –a very powerful climax. The Israel problem had yet to completely and finally be resolved – nor had the messiah issue. Jesus now acknowledged that David Rothchild, although he would not share this with others apart from the Apostles, and perhaps a few other select and responsible Christian elders, was indeed a messianic figure of sorts, primarily the King who reigned in splendour according to the passages of Isaiah chapter 32 in the Old Testament, which Jesus himself did not claim to fulfill. In Isaiah 26, the righteous of Israel had been reborn, in the mid 1960s of the Christian Calendar, when Israel had been reborn as a nation about 20 years earlier, and in fighting the Muslim nations, Israel's borders had been enlarged somewhat, fulfilling the prophecy, with Moses himself seen by the Muslim hordes leading Israel in battle. The world had not known Israel had returned as a people, not until much later, and then David Rothchild had become King over Israel, and Jesus had to acknowledge him as the figure of Isaiah 32. Yet this did not change his own claims of Messianic glory – the Christ of Salvation – the Son of God according to God's own righteous voice declaring him as such, and it was in the Book of Revelation, with the twin figures of the 'Lord of Lords and the King of Kings' and the 'King of Kings and the Lord of Lords' that Jesus hoped to finally resolve all the enigmatic mysteries concerning religions, messiahs and God's holy truth.

Of course, the power of Zuul threatened the world again – an ancient demonic deity – an ancient evil power – and Zuul's pawn the dragon was now to be dealt with – finally and utterly forever.

The Dragon was a comical character, ironically, in more ways than one. He had emerged in America, based on Zuul's own moulding of the character, developed from the simplest of things – an Asian Batman comic in Heaven.

But the Dragon's power was not to be mocked. He controlled much of the power of darkness on earth, and wielded Zuul's influence in America in the underground hell society of the dark side of New York.

But the codes had been honoured – the final battle was at hand – the 45 had been selected – and as Jesus Christ, with his twin Jenna, walked carefully through the darkness of Hell's caverns, nearing Stormwarden's crossing, he anticipated the final, crucial and decisive encounter.

Chapter Seven

Leo 5 smelled the air. As a hybrid creation of a mad scientist, a genetic wonder of human and lion characteristics, the 7 'Leo's had been freed by a crazed rights activist and, due to their funky looking nature, and people thinking they were some kind of mutant x-men assemblage, they had hidden from the world until Jesus himself had befriended them, given them a home in his community known as 'Paradise'in Greenwich Village were he lived, and they had found a home, acceptance and a purpose and reason in life.

Leo 5 was the greatest fighter amongst the group, and had been Uriel's natural choice for the 45 warriors to redeem America. Jesus had given the choice up to Uriel to select the 45, even though Daniel really had wanted the choices. But Daniel was kept back in 'Paradise' as Jesus wouldn't let him risk his life, and they needed a fall back leader should the Dragon triumph.

'I smell Dragon blood,' Leo 5 said to the entourage.

'We draw near,' said Uriel.

Dr Chiu took out her blade, which so far had remained sheathed. 'We best be careful. There is no telling what may suddenly emerge.'

Uriel looked at her, and made a decision. 'Put your blade away. He is evil, but he his honourable. We do not want to provoke the darkness before the time – they will claim dishonour from us and thus claim victory. The terms are secure in the codes. Put away thy blade.'

She looked at him, crossly. He really should know better, he should know of the Dragon's treachery, but she honoured his wished and sheathed her blade.

'Venkman should be the nearest by now,' said Leo 5. He left the earliest.'

'Yes, he needed the most time. The most to carry,' responded Uriel.

Venkman was one of the chosen Ghostbusters, specially armed with a nuclear powered device to capture demonic forces and suck them into a holding container in his backpack. Uriel's logic was when you were facing the forces of evil, with a number of potential demon's in the pack, who you gonna call?

Venkman had left the earliest, chosen a specific route, as they were all required to assemble separately for the most part, according to the agreement, and Uriel prayed to Christ for him that he was safe, and had not fallen into danger.

'Darkness shall prevail!' It was a haunting, deep, cry from the darkest demon of hell, reverberating around the room they were in , chilling to the very heart of their souls.

Despite her rebuke, Dr Chiu pulled out her blade again. 'You think I should let that sort of evil just sneak up on us?' she demanded of Uriel.

He stared at her, and indicated she should put her blade away despite the demonic growling voice's utterance. She stared ahead, at the dark walkway they were on, amidst the underground of the Hell Caverns, like the Catacombs of old and ancient churches, yet these full of the spirits of the dark, not those of the night.

'They could come on us suddenly. Kill us. Betray the covenant.'

Uriel looked ahead, and something of the word's of Dr Chiu's warnings he almost considered. Yet, he would trust the Dragon on this occasion, despite Dr Chiu's concerns. He came over, took Dr Chiu's blade from her hands, and put it in her sheathe. 'Do NOT take it out again. Even when they are near, and even if they come forward. Wait. We have a chance to defeat Zuul's Dragon forever, and redeem America. Hell will need wait millennia before even bothering another attempt on mankind again. Do not fuck up, Dr Chiu. Do not fuck up.'

She glared at him, but softened. As he wished. Despite her fears, as he wished.

Chapter Eight

It is often said by many that it is darkest before the dawn. A night of evil, unlike many others which had gone before it, was specially darkened, and the dawn which ultimately did arise seemed to speak the truth of that ancient proverb like never before.

Uriel had watched in battle, dressed in his dark batman robes, carefully marking the Dragon in the arena, keeping his eyes firmly on him, and ready to strike at the first real opportunity – yet his opponent marked him likewise.

They seemed to fall, somewhat, in unison – one from good, one from bad, and the numbers and attrition were even for some while. And then the dragon entered in, and killed 4 quite quickly, and things looked grim for a while.

Uriel had done what his calling had required of him – attacked the dragon with the savagery and power he had been mastering for many years now. When the dragon, in practical fulfillment of Xaddadaxxian prophecy, had bitten off his finger in a struggle, Uriel had howled, but had still, thankfully, managed the killing blow with a dagger into the heart of the fowl beast. And, as he bled, and howled, the dark forces withdrew somewhat, and Christ attacked with renewed vigour, slew the remaining required numbers, and they claimed victory. The light claimed victory over the dark.

A representative of Zuul emerged from the shadows, and brought forth the 'New Covenant' pact of peace. A stand was put up, and he placed the parchment on the stand, and taking a quill, dipping it in an ink bowl he opened, signed his name and indicated for Uriel to sign as well, with Jesus Christ as witness.

'You have One Million years, before we will even bother contemplating dark deeds on this planet again. Zuul does know honour, and the Gatekeeper will not seek Gozer's will here until the terms of this 'New Covenant' are well and truly honoured. In the Universal Court of Order we have agreed you may lodge this document, and the Omnipotent One may use any power at his disposal to punish us should we transgress this covenant. These rights we cede to you.'

The man-demon, brought forth another copy for them to sign, and a copy of each was to be kept by both groups.

'Now, we will withdraw from the upper levels of New York. We will withdraw again, away from the light, into the shadows. We will haunt men no more, and become a thing of the darkness, a thing of the shadows, a thing of tales and legends. But remember, we have traditions, and should those of the light shun the ways of the one who is, we will claim our dues. Such truths never change, children of God. Such truths never change.'

The man-demon gave them a little grin, turned, and with the other denizens of evil following, they retreated, away from the battle scene, down into the darkness, down into hell, down into the lost legends of the darkness.

Uriel gazed at the sunlight, from the New Dawn of the Day, the New Dawn for America. 'We are free again, Jesus.'

Jesus looked at the sun, which seemed to have a blaze of new hope in its rays.

'But not forever, Uriel. Never, it seems, forever.'

And Uriel nodded, grimly, reluctantly, yet knowingly.

Chapter Nine

Uriel awoke. Dr Chiu was with him. He was in Dr Chiu's dream office. And, suddenly, his mind seemed to be emerging from a dreamscape world, a world of portents of the future, were names such as 'The Dragon' and 'Zuul' haunted his fleeting dream memories, and figures such as Jesus Christ had become central to his life.

Dr Chiu spoke to him. 'Do you remember your dreamings?'

Uriel looked at her, looked at her, dressed in green, a radiant image of light, an image of victory over the darkness, yet shook his head.

'The dream is gone from me, Dr Chiu. It is gone.'

'Now that is a pity,' said Dr Chiu. 'Maybe next time, Uriel. Maybe next time.'

'Yes, next time,' responded Uriel, as he stared into the eyes of the illustrious Dream Doctor.

The End

All Good Things Must Come To An End

Callodyn was sitting with Kayella. Firstborn angel Uriel was busy on the Gauntlet II Arcade Video Game Machine in the corner, trying to get to level 100. Callodyn wished him luck.

Victoria and Daniel were having a debate on the meaning of life, which had been progressing for several centuries, and over in the corner they were smoking cigarettes, drinking lemonade, and looking very philosophical in their berets and posh attitude.

Callodyn looked at Kayella. 'Dr Chiu says you have been having troubles. What is on your mind?'

'Children,' responded Kayella.

'You want kids?'

'What do you reckon.'

'I see,' he responded.

Moments passed.

'I don't know if I am cut out for being a daddy. I have enjoyed my single life for quite a while now. I mean, what would kids offer me, Kay? Huh? Huh?'

Kayella looked at her twin. One obvious word sprang to mind. She used it. 'Family, Call. Family.'

'More trouble for the universe. More kids. Will it ever fucking end?'

'When all good things come to an end, Mr Callodyn, then God will be finished with you. But not until then. So meet me upstairs in half an hour, be in a good mood, watch a little porno before you come into the room, and we will start a baby-making.'

Callodyn looked at her, saw the grim and gritty future in her eyes, and nodded. 'I guess so. I guess fucking so.'

She smiled at him, left the room, and Callodyn waltzed over to the Gauntlet II machine, but in a few dollars worth of 20 cent coins, and immediately, with his blue wizard, stole the food, and said in a cute voice 'Blue Wizard stole the food.'

And Uriel hit him on the arm, as the game went on forever.

The End


End file.
